Please Santa
by Harleyzgirl
Summary: A cross border case leads to Santa Claus finally getting the opportunity to fulfill a long ago wish of Penelope's.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I sadly didn't get the rights to Criminal Minds for Christmas, so I am borrowing the characters for a little bit of profitless entertainment. No infringement is intended other than some amusement, promise.

AN: I know for most folks the Christmas season is over, but in my household it goes until Thursday (Epiphany). Therefore, I am still posting this even though it's a story based around Christmas. Hope you enjoy regardless. Please feel free to let me know what you think along the way.

Btw, the story is mostly written, however I return to work tomorrow and this week is insane with personal chaos so I may not post everyday. Hope you enjoy. Harlie

Please Santa

What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow with blessings rich and eternal, and that every path may lead to peace. ~Agnes M. Pahro

November 2, 1995

La Jolla, California

Dear Santa,

I feel like a fool sending this letter, but I don't know what else to do. You've always granted my wishes as a child, so I am hoping you'll grant my adult wish, too.

My parents are gone and I am about to face my first Christmas without them. I don't think I can do it. No…I know I can't. I'm not strong enough. I feel so alone. I am so alone. My stepbrothers have each other and their families. I had mom and dad. I don't understand why they had to die.

Please Santa, send someone to love me and help me through this. I simply can't do it alone.

Signed,

Penelope Garcia

PGDMPGDMPGDMPGDM

November 2, 2010

Department of Unfulfilled Wishes, North Pole

Santa reread the letter he was holding in one hand and wiped the tears streaking down his cheeks with the other. Letters like this one broke his heart. Mostly because there was little to nothing he could do. Year after year, he brought toys, pets, books, bikes and other sources of entertainment, to boys and girls worldwide. Yet, to the children who needed him most to ease their heartache, he was ill equipped to do much of anything.

Penelope's letter had been particularly hard to handle for several reasons:

She had stepbrothers who should have been there to help fill at least some of the gap and help her heal.

She was eighteen and his mandate was for children. Technically, he wasn't responsible, but he never could accept that. Everyone was _somebody's_ child.

After fifteen years, it continued to bother him: Penelope still didn't have anyone in her life to love her properly.

Swiping once more at his damp cheeks Santa made a vow:

"Penelope, this year I'm going to make your wish come true."

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: In part 1

AN: Trust me, there is method to my madness. Also, the next chapter will be a more respectable length. It wouldn't have flowed properly if I'd attached it to this one. Happy reading.

November 27, 2010

Toronto, Ontario

Brian Connelly, aka Santa Claus at Fairview Mall, was exhausted. His thighs actually ached as he stood up. The mall administration had gone all out for him this year and gotten him an ergonomic support for his chair and everything, but they couldn't control the exuberance with which some children bounced on his lap, or the size of some of his visitors. When did six-month olds start weighing thirty pounds!

Exiting through the loading dock of the mall, he slipped off his hat to replace it with his toque. _It wouldn't do for Santa to get a cold during his busiest time of the year, now, would it,_ he thought, as he folded the red hat and tucked it into his jacket. Keys in hand, he pushed against the door and felt the first blast of cold air slap at his exposed neck. He was thinking he'd need to remember his scarf tomorrow, just as a flash caught his attention.

Before Brian could register danger, an arrow had pierced his chest. He grunted, then gurgled, in the space of two heartbeats; his last. His body slumped to the ground, trapped half in and half out of the mall.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See part one please and thank you.

AN: Thank you so very much to everyone who reviewed, alerted, favourited and who are trusting me. I know a number of you were alarmed that I killed Santa…all I can say is, I'm sorry but trust me please.

I'm posting chapter 3 tonight to make up for the first two chapters being so short.

December 13, 2010

Quantico, Virginia

This close to Christmas no one wanted to catch a case. Especially not one that had sat unsolved on the books for two years. The Toronto Police Services were desperate. For the third year in a row, someone was murdering mall Santas on the Saturday nights before Christmas. Now with nine dead from the two previous years and three already for this one, their Police Chief, Bill Blair, was reaching out for help to the BAU.

"We are going to have to move fast on this one. We only have one Saturday remaining before this guy goes to ground again for another year," Hotch said, as he addressed the team.

"Sir, I'll start looking into the lives of the twelve dead men for commonalities," Garcia said, as she began a cursory search on the laptop she had with her.

"We know this much already, all of these men were repeat Santas. Most had been the Santa at their mall for more than three years and were very well liked. In this industry especially, that's a rarity in itself," Hotch said.

Garcia nodded. "Noted, sir. I'll start contacting malls to find out how long they've had their Santa and compile a list from there."

"Given the geographic make up for the Greater Toronto Area, there should be certain pockets you can likely avoid due to their cultural make up," Reid added.

"What are you getting at," Rossi asked.

Reid stood, as he quickly brought up a map of Toronto on his iPad©. "Areas like Spadina Avenue from College to Queen Streets, which is predominantly Jewish and Asian. There are malls, but highly unlikely to have any Santas. That being said, move over a few intersections north or west and you have Dufferin Mall and the Toronto Eaton Centre. Both would have a mall Santa, but I doubt either would be a hang over from previous years."

"I see where you're going with this," Derek said. He then shifted his focus to Garcia, "Baby Girl, where are the malls that have lost their Santa already since 2008?"

"Basically," Penelope replied, as she tapped on her keyboard for a moment before continuing, "from one end of Toronto to the next. The first Santa killed worked at Sheridan Mall. At first, sadly, the police thought it might have been a racially motivated murder because the following week it was the Santa at Malvern Town Centre at the other end of the city. Similar economic and racial make-up, but a huge monkey wrench tore that theory apart when weeks three and four brought the deaths of the Santa at Bayview Village and then Centerpoint Mall."

"Break it down for us: how many malls are we talking," Prentiss asked.

"Fifty-three, not counting the twelve already targeted. And, taking into consideration Spence's advice that removes another five or so. Also, none of the malls targeted have been attached to office buildings, so that takes out another sixteen, so…"

"We're still looking at covering thirty-two malls provided our UNSUB remains in the GTA proper. Do Torontonians do anything besides shop?" That quip came from Rossi, as he began jotting notes on the pad of paper he continued to carry, even after getting the iPad©.

"Actually, they are second only to New York for daily commerce in North America. Per capita, Torontonians are…"

"He was kidding, Reid. Harness the knowledge train," Derek said, laying a hand on his shoulder to soften the blow of his barb.

"Okay folks, we're wheels up in 30," Hotch said, then he turned to address Penelope directly, "Garcia, you need to join us on this. There's a huge storm headed for the east coast and I can't risk you being inaccessible when we need you."

Penelope nodded. "I'll get my babies packed up. Hey, Hot Stuff, how do you feel about rooming together again?"

At her question, Rossi paused in gathering his paper and electronic pads and Emily raised an eyebrow, however it was Hotch who replied, before Derek had the chance, "I highly doubt there'll be a need for that, as I am certain a city with this many malls will have more than enough hotel rooms to accommodate us."

"Hotch, where's your Christmas spirit," Morgan asked. "I nearly had my baby girl right where I wanted her."

"In case any of you need reminding, it's less than two weeks until Christmas. I intend to be at home with Jack for the holidays."

"Sorry, man," Derek said, his apology evident in his tone, as well as his words.

"You're right, bossman," Penelope added.

"It'll happen, Aaron, but in the mean time…Derek, what exactly are your intentions toward out little tech kitten," Rossi questioned, as he followed Hotch and Derek out of the round room leaving Em and Reid with a blushing Garcia.

"Garcie, is there something you need to tell me," Emily asked.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"The chances of Morgan being serious about his comment given the nature of your relationship are in the probability quotient of one million to…"

"Reid!"

"Uh, yes, Emily-"

"Shut up."

"Leaving." Reid was grinning, but he made a quick exit all the same.

"Excellent," she declared, waiting until he was out of the room to continue her train of thought with Penelope. "I think something's different this time, Pen."

"He's just being Morgan, Em. He's worried because he thinks I'll be alone at Christmas now that Kevin and I are done."

Emily shot Penelope a look that made it clear she wasn't buying her reasoning. "And you won't be?"

"Nope. I'm at the soup kitchen on Christmas Eve and I'm spending Christmas Day with a few of the other actors in my troupe. We're putting on the Nativity for a senior's home and then sharing dinner with them. I'll be more than okay."

"Okay, but lonely."

"Don't start, Em. Who are you with? Your mom."

"Touché."

"I thought so. Let's drop it and get a move on," Penelope said.

"Let's go save some Santas," Em replied, following her out of the conference room.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: In part one.

AN: Thank you to those who have forgiven me and continue to review. :o)

December 15th, 2010

Santa's Workshop, North Pole

Santa was tickled pink. When you're an elf, that's saying something. His cheeks were so rosy, Mrs. Claus was likely going to think he'd been adding Bailey's® to his cocoa again. Regardless, he was happy and his plans were coming together nicely.

He'd spent a couple of weeks observing Penelope's life to make certain his assumptions about the best person to fill the role as her love were correct. After one hour, he'd been pretty confident. After a day, he'd done a little jig. At the completion of a week, he'd told his wife, "Holly, this is nearly as easy as getting the leprechauns drunk on St. Paddy's day!" Now with the allotted time complete, he was, as mentioned before, tickled pink and feeling quite proud of himself.

To ensure his success, he decided a bit of insurance was in order, but he was going to need a little help. He knew he really shouldn't be interfering anymore than he should be leaving the North Pole before the 24th. That being said, he was fairly certain he could be there and back before anyone realized he was gone.

Tugging on his jacket, he grabbed the reins to the sleigh and left the workshop via the back workroom. All of the toys were ready this close to Christmas, save the last minute ones, so none of the elves were around to see him slip out. It took him a moment to convince Prancer and Comet they wanted to go for a run, but an extra carrot each-and the promise of more for all of them when they returned-and he was in the air in less than five minutes.

Since it was nearly two in morning by the time he arrived on the roof of the Toronto Delta Chelsea, he wasn't too concerned about being seen. Toronto was a bustling city, but on a Wednesday night, that area of the city was all but shut down. With a quick snap of his fingers, he was into the HVAC system and inside room 1412.

Derek Morgan lay sprawled on his stomach fast asleep. Although Santa was trying to move as quietly as possible, he nearly tripped on a pair of pants Derek had obviously left where they fell when he'd stripped for bed. Picking them up, Santa was further assured of the brilliance of his plan when Derek's wallet slipped out, and a picture of Penelope was in the slot normally reserved for one's drivers license. Tucking the wallet back in the pocket, Santa set the pants in a chair and then leaned over Derek to whisper in his ear, "Christmas would be the ideal time to not only tell Penelope you love her, but to show her as well."

He repeated his message once again in the other ear when Derek flipped his head, then satisfied, he returned to the roof, to his sled, and back to the North Pole, to watch his plan unfold.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See the first chapter please.

AN: This chapter is longer and I hope will tide you all over for a smidge. I'll do my best to post in the next few days, but tomorrow is my dh's birthday and a rather _**HUGE**_ event is taking place in his life as well; I am working a crazy long day on Friday; followed by an all-day meeting on Saturday. I promise to try and post, but if I fail, that's why. Sorry.

December 17, 2010

Toronto, Canada

The Toronto Police Services were bending over backwards to do all they could to assist the BAU. They'd arranged for them to have a taskforce area set up at headquarters on College Street, complete with a tech room close by for Penelope. A team of officers including a division superintendent had been assigned to work directly with them. Still four days after arriving, they had precious little to go on, the clock was ticking down to Saturday evening, and the likelihood of the murder of the last mall Santa for 2010 was imminent.

Needless to say, the BAU team was edgy, the cops were antsy, and the public wanted answers, since an eager reporter from the Star had started connecting dots and ran a story on the front page the day before. Like most sensational pieces, it was getting picked up on the wires like children tracked St. Nick's progress on Christmas Eve!

"I've called a press conference for noon."

"To tell them what exactly, Aaron," Rossi asked.

"To ask for the public's help. Someone out there has to know or have seen something. They just may not have realized it yet. We need more to go on and we need it quickly. I can't accept that one of the eight Santas we've narrowed it down to is going to die. And, I'm not willing to take a chance that having them stay home tomorrow night is going to be enough," Hotch said. The usually stoic man looked disheveled, even though he wore his customary suit. His tie was loose, his shirt looked limp and his normally coiffured hair was tousled. In short, he looked as harassed as he sounded.

"We've had an officer in place as an elf at each Santa outpost. Mall security has been alerted. Garcia is still pouring over the video surveillance from each of the first twelve malls looking for anything or anyone that might be a commonality. We're doing our jobs, Hotch. We can't make this personal, man," Morgan said, and knew it was totally the wrong thing to say as soon as Hotch's ears began to brighten in anger.

"This case becomes more personal every day we get closer to Christmas. As much as I want to get home to my son, I also want to do everything we are capable of to ensure another family doesn't have to go through the holidays without their father, grandfather, uncle…I…we…we need to solve this case and get home."

"Hotch, man-"

Hotch shot Derek an austere look, which silenced him. "Don't, Morgan. Just help me work a preliminary profile to give to the press. If they have to be involved let's make it on our terms and not theirs."

Penelope came rushing into the room in a flash of silver, gold, red and green. They might be on a case, but she was making certain to keep things festive. "My lovelies, tell your goddess how much you love her."

"We are your devoted minions," Derek said, as he his penitent demeanor from only moments earlier morphed into a smile. "Do share your knowledge, Baby Girl."

Barrington Moore, the Superintendent of 42 Division, who was part of their taskforce, choked on his coffee at Derek's response. He didn't have a chance to comment before Penelope began to speak, but soon, he was looking on with as much admiration for her as the rest of the BAU team.

"I haven't got you a name yet, however, I do have this man," she paused to bring up several images on the projection screen from video stills. "He was at all twelve locations in the days leading up to each murder. Add to that, I have him on camera in the loading dock or parking lot of each one again on the day each victim was killed. Now, the icing: I went ahead and had the eight malls we are surveilling send me their footage and our boy shows up in two. Not sure if that means he's going for a double header tomorrow night or-"

"Garcia, focus. Which two malls," Hotch demanded.

"Woodside Square and Agincourt Mall. Both are within a few kilometers of each other."

"He's hit more malls in the north end of the city than any where else. Likely because they are more suburban they've maintained better relations with their personnel and managed to retain the same individual to play the part of Santa. But, are there any other similarities we may have overlooked, Garcia," Reid asked.

"None that I've found. Now that I know who I'm likely looking for, I'm going to run facial recognition software on all the footage I've got. It's going to take time though and we have precious little left."

"Good work, Garcia. You focus on that and getting me a name. Reid, you and Dave get some stills and head over to those two malls and start canvassing. Prentiss, you go with Superintendent Moore and get in contact with the families of the deceased and start asking the tough questions. Derek, I'm going to need you with me to work up this profile. We need to glean all we can from these images, fast," Hotch said, as the others jumped to the tasks assigned.

By noon, thanks to the images provided by Penelope they had a name, Locklin Gomes, therefore, something to tell the press once the background of the man they were seeking began to piece itself together. He worked as an archer with a circus in the States, but always took time off from mid November to end of December to return to Toronto to spend with family. Four years before, his son and wife had been killed in a traffic accident as they'd been returning from a last minute trip to Sheridan Mall to see his son's favourite Santa.

However…knowing who they were looking for didn't necessarily make it easier to find him.

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

AN: I'm not sure if I am doing you, my beloved readers, a service or disservice by posting this tonight. I feel so bad that I didn't have time to post yesterday, but everything went swimmingly for my dh and I survived today on less than 4 hours sleep. That being said, this chapter will likely have to hold you until Sunday and I am living in fear of hate mail based on a fellow writer/reader's reaction. Alas, I am going to risk it. I hope you all will remember one very important thing: this story has a HEA ending, I promise. Enjoy, I hope. Harlie

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Woodside Square, Toronto, Canada

Saturday evening found the team split in two, with Hotch, Reid and Prentiss at Agincourt Mall, and Morgan, Rossi and Superintendent Moore scouring Woodside Square, looking for any sign of Locklin. Although they were now in better control of the media, having his picture plastered everywhere from newspapers to televisions and computers was not helping. They needed their UNSUB to surface, not go to ground early.

Back at TPS headquarters, the other members of the taskforce remained diligent at their assigned jobs. Each had a goal, to put this case to bed, tonight. They knew where all his local family lived and all were getting a personal visit from the cops on their taskforce along with the plain-clothed officers that were staking out his last known address. Gomes had to show up someplace soon.

In the meantime, Penelope was still working her magic monitoring the security cameras of both locations in a way only she could. Derek heard a quiet hiss in his ear as his earwig connected with Penelope's communications microphone. Even before she spoke he could sense her excitement. "Morgan, you need to pay closer attention to the line at the dollar store closest to you. I'm not positive, but I think that's our boy."

Derek nodded in lieu of speaking, focusing on the individual they sought. He saw Gomes at about the same time as Gomes spotted him.

Gomes realized he'd been made. He flipped around the makeshift bow he'd had concealed under his jacket, as said jacket hit the mall floor, and had an arrow in place before Derek could pull his gun.

Needless to say, that had patrons scattering.

Santa, Alistair Hemmings, seemed to fold in on himself until he looked like a red velvet ball with a beard. It didn't seem to matter that a police constable was at his side, or that Derek was covering him as well. All this was happening while Celine Dion's rendition of _Silent Night_ filtered through the mall speakers. Morgan might have found some of this amusing if that arrow hadn't looked so sharp, the gleam in Locklin's eyes so deadly, and Penelope hadn't been so quick to inform him of this man's abilities as an archer.

"_Hot Stuff, he's as good with a bow and arrow as you are with a gun. Be careful," Penelope had said, the warning clear in her tone, even as she was giving his hand resting on her shoulder a squeeze. "Maybe even better,"_ he'd heard her whisper, as she'd returned her attention to her babies.

It had been enough to make him extra cautious now.

"Mr. Gomes, it's over. Put down your weapon and let's not have anyone else be harmed," Derek said.

Silence.

The already taut bow zinged with the release and the constable beside Santa Alistair slumped, an arrow protruding from his lower right side. Hopefully not a fatal wound if Derek could get this situation under control fast and get his fellow officer some help. Dropping his own hands away from the butt of his weapon, he raised them to appear as non-confrontational as possible.

"Locklin, this does not have to end with anymore death. I know about your son and wife. I get you on the grief, but this isn't the way to deal with it." Derek had no idea when or how, but another arrow was in the bow, and this one was targeted squarely on him.

Derek began to name Locklin's victims in hopes that giving each dead Santa individuality might help to swing the situation more in his favour. "You've already exacted revenge on Stanley Harris, Bruce Collins, Albert Pippens, Dean Willis, Brian Connelly, Travis Lincoln, Michael Jon-"

Derek's listing was cut short by the release of the arrow. By the time Derek realized it had been fired, he felt the piercing heat of contact as it ripped into his upper chest. He felt his knees buckling, while he fought to lift his gun, but his fingers wouldn't co-operate. He could hear Penelope sobbing and calling his name, as he struggled to breathe through the pain. When the floor rushed up to meet him, he heard the loud erupting of gunfire. Before he lost the battle to remain conscious, Derek heard Locklin Gomes' voice over the opening strains of _God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen._

_He said, "__Daddy's coming_."

_Those were the last words Derek heard._

_TBC…_


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: In part 1

AN: Thank you to each of you for your patience. I'm posting as promised tonight, but the chaos isn't over for me, unfortunately so it will likely be Tuesday or Wednesday before the next update. I am so sorry. If I had known the disruptions would be so numerous I would have held off beginning to post.

Regardless, thank you for the reviews, the alerts and the favourites. They are all warming this sleepy writer's heart. Harlie

December 20, 2010

Santa's House, North Pole

Holly Claus entered her husband's office carrying a tall glass of milk and some ginger cookies. She knew chances were slim they'd do much to improve his mood, but she had to try. He'd been brooding for two days since Special Agent Derek Morgan had been shot with an arrow while on a case in Toronto, Canada. According to him, and she could hear him clearly still in her head, "Mother Nature had a lot to answer for on this one. If she'd just sent the storm up from the east to blanket Toronto…"

Apparently, Agent Morgan figured heavily into his plans to finally grant a fifteen-year old wish to Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia and now he was having a hard time re-jigging his plan. "Holly, it's time for me to retire. I can't do this anymore."

"Santa Nicholas Claus, you quit this defeatist attitude right now," Holly said, one hand balancing the tray, while the other wagged an admonishing finger at the recalcitrant elf. She gave her husband as stern look over her half-moon glasses, as she continued speaking, "Now you sit down, drink this milk, and eat these cookies I spent all afternoon baking for you. I may not be jolly ole St. Nick, but after over two hundred years as your wife, I've picked up a thing or two."

Santa quickly picked up the glass from the tray laid before him and ate half a cookie before he dared to reply, "I'm listening, dear."

She nodded, satisfaction showing on her face. "Better. Now the way I hear it, Agent Morgan is due to wake up tomorrow. However, due to the amount of blood he's lost, he's not going to be able to safely travel until after Christmas."

Santa nodded in agreement, but wisely kept eating cookies and drinking his milk while listening to his wife.

"It's clear from the way Penelope has stayed constantly at Agent Morgan's bedside, at least half your work is already done. She's devoted to him, so the question that remains how does he feel? Knowing women as I do, I'd say he's likely partially in love with her in return, or she wouldn't be so traumatized by his current situation."

Santa put his glass down with so much force the remaining milk slopped within the confines of the glass, coating it in a milky film. "That's my point exactly. This poor girl has had way too much trauma in her life and not enough happiness. She's had her parents die tragically, she's been arrested, she's been shot, she's listened while a colleague's wife and personal friend was murdered, she's been dumped by a litany of men not worth her time, let alone her heart, and now her best friend-and obviously more than that-is laying in a hospital bed for no better reason than doing his job keeping others safe. I can't work like this."

Holly looked thoughtful as she took Nick's hands within her own and drew him to his feet. Wrapping her arms around him she gave him the tightest hug she could manage around his girth. "You, my dear Santa Claus, have the biggest heart of any elf I've ever met. I know you can make this turn out as the best wish you ever made come true. Don't doubt yourself. I love you. I know you can make this work."

Nick smiled and hugged his wife tight in return. "You're a saint, Holly Claus."

"Nope," Holly said, as she gave her head a shake, her smile lighting up her elfin features. "Just the luckiest elf alive."

"Ho ho ho. I love you, too, Santa replied. "And I know how to make this work."

TBC…


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: See part 1 please

AN: I am so very, very sorry. Life _BLEW_ up. It's been an awful few days and I just couldn't wrap my head around getting this posted. I apologize for the delay. I hope you are still with me and will enjoy this. I am aiming for the next update to be over the weekend. Harlie

December 21, 2010

Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre, Toronto, Canada

Fran Morgan entered her son's room with one purpose: to get Penelope Garcia to go and get some food, a shower, and some rest. In the three days since she'd arrived to be with her son, Penelope had only left the room once, and that had been when Fran had first arrived. Since then, Penelope remained at his beside except when nature called.

Once it became apparent that Derek was going to live, but make them all wait to see his beautiful brown eyes open once again and hear his gentle yet authoritative timbre of a voice caress their ears, she'd realized she had to focus on caring for his baby girl instead.

First order of business had been a place to stay. Like most major cities, Toronto had apartments and houses to rent for short term stays. Explaining that her son was the FBI agent who had been injured along with the local cop, apprehending the city's Santa killer, had made the arrangements that much more seamless. Then she'd gotten to work making it a home for the holidays.

Sarah and Desiree had arrived this morning with their families, plus all the boxes Fran had requested from her home. While the girls went off to the hospital to see their brother, she had settled in to unpack with the help of her sons-in-law, Travis and Garrett. Before she'd left to head back to the hospital, she'd hung the stockings over the fireplace. Ordinarily, she wouldn't do this until Christmas Eve, but she strongly suspected that if-and it was a huge if-she managed to get Penelope out of Derek's room and to the house, it was going to come in handy.

"Penelope, it's time to take a break," Fran said.

Her head shot up from where she'd had it resting, on her hand that was holding one of Derek's. She looked like she might shatter at any moment.

Obviously, this intervention was long past due.

"I can't leave now." Penelope's voice sounded raspy and under used. When she paused to swallow several times before continuing to speak, Fran realized she was fighting tears as well. "Derek's been squeezing my hand intermittently for the last few hours, but so far he hasn't opened his eyes or spoken. I have to be here if-"

"Baby…"

The word was hardly more than a whisper, but both Fran and Penelope heard it clearly. Fran was at her side, her hand now holding Penelope and Derek's joined hands. Together they gave a gentle squeeze and heard another whispered name in response.

"Mom?" Derek's voice was even more hoarse than Penelope's was. Even though he was licking his lips it wasn't making much difference.

"Yes, baby boy. We're both here."

"Bright. Water."

In unison, both women jumped into action: Penelope shut off the main light over his bed, leaving just the one over the sink at the side of his bed lit, while his mom headed for the nurses' station to notify them that Derek was awake.

Fran wasn't surprised to come back into the room and find Penelope crying and cradling her son. She'd climbed into the bed with him and he could not have looked more at peace.

That was how the team, plus Jack, found them hours later: Penelope in the bed holding Derek as best she could and Fran on the other side feeding him ice chips and clinging to his free arm.

Dr. Bergman entered the room and got the attention of all present with a chuckle. "Well, Agent Morgan, I see good news travels fast. Cutting it a wee bit close for the holidays, but it doesn't look like your wife or mother are complaining."

Derek had enough wherewithal not to comment on Penelope's claimed status, and since no comments came from the team, as they exited the room, they apparently were aware of the claims as were his mother. "Thank you, doctor. How soon can I get out of here?"

"If everything checks out with the remaining testing tomorrow, I'd say day after tomorrow. Right in time for a light turkey dinner with your family, but I must stress: no flying or distance driving for at least a couple of weeks. You've just spent three days in a coma and inert. Although we've had you on a low dose of Heparin, and you are in excellent physical condition beyond your injuries, you are now on the low end of a high-risk category for increased instance of clots. It's not forever, but you need to be monitored and you need follow up care that should take place here before you make the trip back to the States."

"Understood. Mom, Pen would you give the doctor a moment and then come right back?"

"Sure, honey."

"Of course, Hot Stuff."

Fran wrapped her arm around Penelope, as she slid off the bed and stumbled a few steps from the door. Now that there was no doubt Derek would live, Penelope's adrenaline reserves had run dry. Once she got her outside the room, Fran leaned Penelope against the wall and held her there with a look that never failed to station Derek as a child. "Penelope, he's out of danger. You can relax and take some time for you. I know you love my son-"

A strangled sob from Penelope cut short the rest of her speech.

"Oh, honey child, you still haven't told him." It wasn't a question and they both knew it. She shook her head before leaning forward and burying her face in the crook between Fran's right shoulder and her head. Fran could feel her tears through the knit of her thin sweater. "Hush, child. My son loves you, too. I know he does. Now that he's awake, you two can finally tell one another. I bet it will be the best gift you ever gave each other."

"I can't," Penelope mumbled.

"Nonsense." Fran pushed her shoulder up to force Penelope to look up. "Why not?"

"I don't get my wishes anymore," Penelope whispered. Fran swore she could see clear to Penelope's pained soul, as she met and held her sorrowful gaze.

_It's time for that belief to change_, Fran thought. "I want you to listen up, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am." Penelope said, but her head still hung down, as she leaned heavily against the wall.

"Oh, hon. I'm not going to yell at you. You need to rest. Derek will never forgive me if you end up in a bed in another unit of this place due to exhaustion."

"Okay."

Fran wanted to be happy at the victory, but watching and listening to this shell of her son's Baby Girl was breaking her heart. Penelope was always vibrant and larger than life. Her mother's heart ached to see what their mutual silence and this new traumatic incident had led to. Taking hold of Penelope's shoulders, she drew her body to her own and held her close, stroking her hair, hoping she found it soothing. She didn't move and when the doctor came out, she didn't immediately pull away.

"Honey, before we go back in there, I want you to make me a promise," Fran said. She waited for Penelope to raise her head and hold her gaze before she continued. "I'm giving you the key to the house I rented. Agent Prentiss already brought over your things last night and they are in the second bedroom at the top of the stairs. But, before you go up to shower and rest, I want you to go to the living room. There's something very important waiting there for you."

"For me?" Penelope sounded like a sad combination of exhaustion and uncertainty.

Giving her shoulders one last squeeze, Fran assured her, "Yes, for you, Hon, so, don't forget. Now let's go see your Hot Stuff."

Arm in arm, they reentered the room to see a smiling Derek waiting for them.

TBC…

AN Endnote: Please remember the family of Sgt. Ryan Russell of the real Toronto Police Services who was tragically killed in the line of duty yesterday. Thank you.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: In part one.

AN: I can only hope that you, my faithful readers will forgive the delay. I am really sorry. All I can say is stress got the better of me and I decided to listen. I believe things are now regulating, so updates will hopefully be more consistent at every couple of days. Enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you're thinking. Harlie

December 22, 2010

Temporary Morgan residence, Toronto, Canada

Penelope could barely see straight by the time Superintendent Moore dropped her off at Derek's mom's rented house. She'd run into him while making a brief visit to the constable who'd also been shot by Gomes on that fateful evening. Now both he and Derek were on the mend and all Penelope could think of was a hot shower and sleep.

Using the key Momma Morgan had provided to her, Penelope unlocked the door to the two-storey townhouse and shuffled in. In deference to it not being her own house, she slipped off her shoes, leaving them by the front door, and carried her purse with her as she made for the stairs. It was as her hand touched the railing that reality intruded into her semi consciousness.

She blinked several times and even gave herself a little pinch before accepting what she was seeing was indeed real and not some mirage. The railing was covered in garland and a Christmas stairway runner with little elves adorning it led the way up the stairs. Shifting to the right and taking a few steps, she came to the top of the stairs leading to the basement and found more garland and snowflakes hanging from the drop ceiling. Moving with a speed she didn't think her tired body had the energy for, Penelope pivoted and climbed the stairs up to the next level.

She was mindful of the decorations and forewent actually holding the banister. By the fifth step up, she had a fairly clear view of the living room, kitchen and dining room. Every available surface had been decorated. A Christmas tree stood proudly in front of the patio door; across from that and through a set of French doors, she could see the dining room table set with Christmas dishes atop Christmas linens, the doorways to the kitchen and dining room sported mistletoe. As her eyes scanned their way along the opposite wall of the living room, they saw the fireplace.

Nine stockings hung from individual hooks from the mantle. Each hook was an initial, but each stocking was embroidered with a name. Fran, followed by Sarah and Travis, their children Simon and Teresa, and then Derek and Baby Girl hanging from a P hook…it was the only one already stuffed to overflowing.

Tiredness forgotten, Penelope dropped her purse and keys on the closest flat surface, and made her way over to the fireplace. She slid her hand along from the end where Desiree and Garrett's stockings were to come to her own. Uncertain, she began to look for a way to unhook it when a voice startled her.

"You'd be better off to take some out first and then try. Mom had to work magic to get everything Derek's collected over the years in there. The rest of us had to settle for making you a pile beside your gifts under the tree," Sarah remarked, as she came to stand beside Penelope.

"This is all from Derek?"

"Every last one," Sarah confirmed. "My brother hasn't stopped going on about you since you met. Finally, about four years ago, Mom had told him to bring you home with him for the holidays, but a case had come up and he'd never made it. He'd sent the gifts and stocking stuffers ahead of time and Mom had already made you the hook and stocking like she'd done for the rest of us, and so it began. Each year, he sends your stocking stuffers, but you haven't been there to receive them."

"He'd never said anything." Penelope took out a few of the looser gifts from the top and handed them to Sarah.

"So we'd gathered, but I know he'd had it all planned for you to be with us this year for sure. He'd even called Mom the night before he was shot and told her to make sure your stocking was out with everything in it." Sarah placed the gifts she'd been holding on a side table.

"He didn't-" Penelope began to say.

"Tell you," Sarah interrupted. "I think he had planned to go caveman and kidnap you, because Agent Prentiss had mentioned your go bag was supposed to mysteriously go missing on the way to the jet, and you two were supposed to catch a flight to Chicago from here as soon as the case was done."

Penelope was too overwhelmed to speak. With shaking hands, she took down the stocking, hook and all, and dropped into the closest chair with her remaining bounty. Sarah placed the ones from the side table in her lap as well, and then slipped away into the kitchen without saying anything more. It took Penelope several seconds to pull all the wrapped items out of the sock-like sack. She was pleased to find they all had tags on them identifying what year they had been added. Slipping onto the carpeted floor, she grouped them around her, putting the lone small square box with a 2010 tag on top of the emptied stocking to her left.

By the time Sarah rejoined her with cups of hot chocolate laced with Bailey's® Irish Mint Cream, Penelope had an impressive collection of wild pens and funky hair adornments tagged 2007, a chunky necklace with an eye pendent she was almost positive was Austrian crystal, a pair of flying saucer dangling earrings, as well as a pair of bowling ball stud ones, all tagged 2008, and a very intricate white, yellow and rose gold eternity ring accompanied by a silver pendent that spelled out _Forever_ which were tagged 2009.

"Not hard to tell what year you went from being just a friend to being the love of my brother's life," Sarah said, before taking a healthy gulp of her cocoa.

"It's not like that. We're just friends. Best friends," Penelope replied, fingering the letters of the pendent.

"Mmm-hmm…Travis is my best friend, too. It's why we have two children together and number three will hopefully be here by next Christmas," Sarah paused, took another sip of her drink, and then said, "If I were you, I'd wait until my brother gets here from the hospital to open that last stocking stuffer. The size and shape are suspicious to me."

Penelope glanced at the little box sitting innocently on the floor on its woolen cushion. "You don't think…"

"I do. Now, I think you'd best gather your gifts and head to bed. I'll clean up down here and make dinner while you rest," Sarah said, tossing a saucy wink at Penelope, before she disappeared once again into the kitchen.

"It couldn't be," Penelope whispered, as she picked up the remaining unopened present and tapped on it. Not much of a sound was made, it was too hard to squeeze and it didn't rattle when shaken. With Sarah's allusion floating unfettered through her thoughts, Penelope slipped it back into the stocking and re-hung it beside Derek's. She started to slip the eternity ring onto the third finger of her right hand, but paused to try it on the third finger of the left instead. The cool metal felt odd at first, however it warmed quickly and brought with it a sense of rightness.

Gathering the rest of the presents, Penelope called, "Good night", to Sarah, retrieved her purse and keys, before heading up to the room Fran had told her was waiting for her.

A long shower later, she slipped into the Chicago PD t-shirt she'd relieved Derek of some years before and a pair of pajama pants, before laying down. She laid there staring at the ring on her left hand until she fell asleep and dreamt-for the first time in a long time-of a future with her Hot Stuff not restricted to being only his best friend.

TBC…


	10. Chapter 10

AN: I am so sorry. I can't even begin to explain the last couple of weeks, so all I will ask is if you still care and are still reading please let me know. Due to a snow day in Toronto I finally had some me time and got this written. Huge thanks to JenRar for the fast edit so I could post right away.

I really hope it was worth the wait. Harlie

December 23, 2010 2358 North Pole time

Santa's Workshop, North Pole

Ole St. Nick was feeling especially spry as he headed for his sleigh. Holly had given him an extra special wake up call this morning, along with a kiss goodbye that was certain to keep his toes curled until long after he was done delivering gifts in Australia! His decision way back in November to finally grant the wish of Penelope Garcia had definitely brought with it some pleasurable fringe benefits.

Although he knew the route he took annually to drop off gifts like the inside of his eyelids, this year, he had the overwhelming urge to do North America first; the fact that it was barely the middle of the day on Christmas Eve not withstanding. He was excited, and who could blame him?

Derek and the other officer injured during the takedown and subsequent death of Locklin Gomes had been released from the hospital the day before. Both would require weeks to get back to their pre-shooting selves, but they were alive and with their families for the holidays.

Just as Santa was about to call out to the reindeer for take off, his head elf came running. "Santa. Hang on. You forgot these." He held out a red silk sack trimmed in gold gifts shaped embroidery.

"Ho, ho, ho. I'd have had to turn around for this. Thank you, Fagen."

Fagen gave a little wave and headed off, as Santa gently placed the parcel in the seat beside him. It was far too important to be in the back with all the other toys. Not that they weren't important, but these were going to be the icing on the cake of the night's sweet enjoyment.

Satisfied, Nick sat down, gave a little wiggle to find his sweet spot in the sleigh, and then yelled out, "Dasher! Head straight. Dancer! Not quite yet. Prancer, always ready, and Vixen, stop distracting Comet. Cupid, it's your night. Donder and Blitzen, lift off."

In an instant, the sleigh was off the ground, and Santa was off once again to fulfill the wishes of boys and girls worldwide while they slept.

DMPGDMPGDMPGDMPG

December 24, 2010 1345 EST

Temporary Morgan residence, Toronto, Canada

Derek had caught sight of the eternity ring on Penelope's left hand the minute she walked into his hospital room two days before. It was hard to miss a ring he'd had custom made to represent them and the children he hoped they would one day share. Regardless of the significance, he suddenly wasn't certain how to broach the whole topic of his love for her after she'd had to listen to him be shot. Even as he was losing consciousness and hearing the dying words of Locklin's madness, his thoughts had been of his Baby Girl.

He'd thought of the plan he'd had to whisk Penelope off to Chicago to spend the holidays with himself and his family. He'd thought of what he'd anticipated her reaction would have been to his gifts waiting for her. He'd thought of what he'd hoped her reaction would be when he dropped to one knee and begged her to let him be her friend, Hot Stuff, lover, and husband for the rest of their lives. But then, the blackness had consumed him instead, and none of that had come to fruition.

Seeing the ring on her finger and the pendant around her neck, he wondered why she didn't say anything about this year's gift. That's when he realized; she likely had yet to open it. His Penelope was conscientious to a fault, and so regardless of her level of curiousity, she'd wait until Christmas day to open his final gift. Only problem, he no longer felt worthy to give it to her. He loved her. God knew he did. But fear had him by the gut now. What if Gomes' arrow had been a bit more true to target? Penelope, his mother, his sisters, and the team would have been burying him, instead of bringing his weakened ass to a rental house for the holidays.

Despite the feeling of holiday cheer all around him, Derek was now feeling decidedly despondent and bitter, and he had no idea what he was going to do in the morning when Penelope opened his gift and expected him to set their individual lives on a path of togetherness.

TBC…


	11. Chapter 11

AN: I hope this was worth the wait. It's been a heck of a week. Thank you so much for the additional alerts, favourites and reviews. I can't thank each of you enough. Harlie

Christmas Eve/Christmas Day really early

Morgan temporary residence, Toronto, Canada

Penelope couldn't sleep. To be honest, she had yet to have a restful night since Derek was shot, but tonight was even worse than usual. At first, she chalked it up to anticipation of Christmas morning and getting to at last open the final gift from Derek. After counting off one hundred and thirty sheep, sixty-two moose, and naming all eight of Santa's original reindeer in alphabetical order, she had to admit there was more to it.

Derek had seemed off all day, and although she'd asked him several times if it was anything she could help him work through, her prodding had only managed to increase his morose mood. For a man she hoped was about to propose to her later today, he sure hadn't seemed happy at all. Of course, once the team et al had shown up, he'd put on a great show, especially for Will, Henry, and Jack. Penelope had witnessed both Rossi and Reid giving Derek the hairy eyeball a couple of times each, but to the best of her knowledge, they hadn't been as bold as her to ask what had been bothering him.

Flipping onto her right side, she watched the digital clock change from 0109 to 0110, and then on to 0111 and 0112. When it got to 0123, she groaned aloud, grabbed her glasses off the small side table beside said clock, and pushed the covers off, before sitting up and swinging her legs off the bed.

What she really wanted to do was check on Derek to see if he was struggling to sleep like she was. Unfortunately, his room was on the top floor of the townhouse, and she was sleeping on the pull out couch in what was supposed to be the den on the main floor. Penelope had hoped to share with Derek, but he hadn't seemed open to the idea and she'd chosen not to push it considering his mood already.

She had to give Fran credit for making certain every member of her "family" had a place to lay their head. She'd even offered to buy air mattresses and have the team stay at the house, too. Always gracious, Hotch had worked his magic and assured Momma Morgan that they were all more than comfortable in the accommodations they had found at a Best Western® less than five kilometers away.

Opening the draped French doors to the den, Penelope crept as quietly as she could manage over the hard wood floor of the living room on her way to the kitchen. Since she had foregone turning on any lights, she didn't realize she wasn't alone until she heard a soft grunt, followed by, "Ho, ho, oww."

Penelope knew she ought to be terrified, since the voice sounded decidedly male and not even close to that of Derek or either of his brothers-in-law. Despite this, she kept moving and flipped the closest light switch on, even as she made certain she was facing the room now bathed in light.

There, crouched by the Christmas tree, was a very round, not very tall, older gentleman adorned in what looked to be an authentic Santa suit. Every fiber of Penelope's being told her she was either dreaming, hallucinating from lack of sleep, or tripping out on some unknown substance, but in her heart, she knew the truth…

"Santa."

"Child, you are not supposed to see me," he replied, even as he continued to remove packages from a red, silk-looking sack that had what looked to be the designs of gifts sewn into the fabric at the top.

"Why not? I'm not a child anymore."

"Hrmph…you'll always be a child to someone, young Penelope."

Penelope began to shake when he said her name. "It…it's…it's really you? I mean, you're real?"

"Yes, child. As real as you and everyone else in this house, but different, too." He shook the sack, as if to ensure it was empty, and then straightened. Even at his full height, he didn't come to Penelope's shoulders.

"Different. Yeah, I'd say. You don't read your mail, either," Penelope said, but she didn't move any closer to Santa. "If you're real, why didn't you answer my letter?"

"The simple answer?"

"If it helps."

"You were over the age of my mandate."

A strangled noise escaped her throat, before Penelope managed to squeak out a reply. "And so I deserved to be alone and unloved?" The last word had barely passed her lips, before the tears began to fall, spotting the lenses of her glasses. She whipped them off and blotted at her eyes with the sleeve of her nightshirt, prior to stumbling to the same chair where she'd sat only a few days before to open the gifts Derek had bought for her.

Santa came over and knelt on one knee in front of her. He hovered one of his gloved hands over her own that still held her glasses in her lap for several seconds, and then seemed to decide it was worth the risk and covered hers with his. "Child, you have it all wrong. I wanted to help you. I wanted it so badly; your letter has haunted me for fifteen long years. In fact, it's the reason I am here tonight."

"Who the hell are you, and why are you in my mother's house, touching my woman?" Derek's voice was a hoarse whisper, yet more than loud enough to be heard clearly.

Both Penelope and Santa reacted immediately at the sound of Derek's voice. They looked up to see Derek sweating profusely from the exertion, but with his service issued gun trained on the side of Santa's head.

TBC…


	12. Chapter 12

AN: I had intended to finish this Christmas fic in time for Valentine's, then life intruded and prevented that from becoming reality. I hope you all still care to read this. I think there's only one chapter left after this. Hope you enjoy. Harlie

Christmas Eve/Christmas Day really early - still

Morgan temporary residence, Toronto, Canada

"Derek Morgan, you put that gun down right now!" Penelope's words were spoken with quiet strength, yet with enough force, to get him to comply.

Derek looked from Penelope's tear stained face to the Santa wannabe kneeling before her and chose to lower the weapon, but not ease up on his grasp, despite the pain it was causing. "Not until that man explains what he's doing touching you."

The stranger had the audacity to wink at Penelope, before turning his head to meet Derek's gaze head on. "Son, you need to put that gun away before you do any more damage to yourself or accidentally hurt someone."

"I what?" Derek couldn't and didn't try to hide how insulted he was by that comment. "I've been trained to handle weapons you've only heard about, Santa."

St. Nick tried not to cringe at the disgust in Derek's tone when he said his name. "Agent Morgan, you sustained quite an injury, and the doctors were very clear you're not to over extend yourself. I'm fairly certain shooting me would fall into that category."

"Shut u-"

Penelope cut off the rest of Derek's obvious response by getting out of the chair and grabbing Derek around the waist. It did not go unnoticed by Derek or Santa that she made no attempt to touch his hands that were still wrapped around the butt and trigger of his gun. Gently, she guided him into the seat she'd just vacated, while Santa scrambled with all the grace of an arthritic to his feet.

Removing one hand from his weapon, Derek drew Penelope into his lap and kept her there by wrapping the arm around her. "Explain yourself, old man, and it better be good," Derek said.

"Hot Stuff, it's Santa. The real Santa."

St. Nick didn't know whether to be pleased or concerned that Derek's attention didn't shift off of him, even as he responded to Penelope. "Baby Girl, have you been drinking? Did you take something to help you sleep? He's a burglar, baby, and he has about thirty seconds to give me a damn good reason why I shouldn't already be calling for backup."

"But Hot Stuff, he's the real deal. Santa…"

"It's okay, child. Derek's instincts have already told him I'm no threat. He's not likely to ever believe whom I really am, but I do have something to say to him," St. Nick said, as he stood by the chair the couple occupied, and was at just about eye level.

"You, Derek, are being a fool. Over the last several years, you have fallen deeply in love with the woman you have clamped in your lap and bluntly told me is yours. Yet, now that you know she loves you just as much, now that it's even more clear how much your family loves her just like you while she's been here helping to nurse you back to health, now is when you decide you've brought too much heartache into her life and can't propose? Boy, if I didn't know how much you are hurting right now from your own stupidity, I'd smack you!"

Derek's jaw dropped. "I never told anyone I planned to propose."

"You didn't have to, genius. That lovely woman in your arm can read you like code. And frankly, why do you think you were up calling your mother in the middle of the night on the 15th to have her wrap your Granny's ring?"

Derek's eyes were bugging out of his head now. "That wasn't a dream."

"Nope," Santa said, finding it hard to keep the smugness out of his tone when he continued to explain, "Penelope is special to me. She's been hurt way more than anyone should ever be. I made a promise that this year I was going to fulfill a wish she made a long time ago, and you, young man, are going to make it a reality."

"Yes, sir?"

Penelope giggled when she heard Derek's tentative response.

"Are you able to kneel, young man?"

"Yeah, of course. I can do it." Derek flipped the safety back on for his gun, placed it at his back between the seat cushions, and then he eased his grip on Penelope. "Let me up, and sit here, please, Baby Girl."

Garcia practically bounced to her feet as Derek slipped past her and eased himself onto one knee. He teetered slightly, but recovered quickly with a glare at Santa for his outstretched hand of help. "I said I could do it."

Santa and Penelope chose to ignore the additional beads of sweat now gracing Derek's brow. St. Nick instead turned away to get the little gift from Derek marked 2010 that had remained unopened by Penelope. Being careful to stay in Derek's line of sight, he returned and dropped the box into Derek's upturned palm.

"Thank you."

Derek sounded a bit winded, and all at once St. Nick worried he might have pushed too hard for Derek to do this now. His concern was assuaged a moment later when Penelope reached out and wiped Derek's brow with her nightshirt sleeve and was awarded with a sigh of contentment only rivaled by that of a sleeping infant.

"My pleasure," Santa said, before he stepped away, and with a little jig, disappeared from sight.

"Baby Girl, I don't know how this man knows what he knows, but he's right on all counts. Baby, I love you. I think I've been falling a bit in love with you since the day we met. I know at times, I've made your heart ache, I'm sorry. I know there are times you'd like to kick my ass for the stunts I pull; I'm sorry for that, too. But P, you bring peace to my soul, sunshine to my most painful day, and I want to know if you'd do me the highest honour of being my wife?"

"Without a doubt, Hot Stuff. I'd love nothing more than to be your wife."

Derek was shaking. Penelope wasn't certain if it was from exertion or nerves; Derek knew it was from anticipation as he handed the last gift to her. Opening it, Penelope was floored at the beauty of the ring: a diamond cut black onyx set in white gold. Now, she was shaking as she handed the box back to Derek. He removed the ring, lifted her left hand, and kissed her ring finger around the unity ring still nestled there, before he spoke. "Would you mind removing that for me, P?"

"Not at all," Penelope said, but then it proved easier said than done, as she was shaking so much now, too. At last, the ring slipped free, and she slid it onto her right ring finger for safekeeping.

"Thank you, baby," Derek said, as he slid the engagement ring into place.

"You're really mine now," he whispered, and then dropped to both knees, as he leaned forward, and at last captured Penelope's lips with his own, in a gentle, but possessive kiss.

Several minutes went by before either of them remembered their audience. Penelope eased away from Derek's latest kiss and looked around the living room. She wasn't surprised to find they were now alone.

"Thanks, Santa," she whispered.

"He's gone," Derek asked, but Penelope knew it was rhetorical.

"Yeah, he's got a lot of other dreams to fulfill tonight." The wistful tone in Penelope's voice making Derek look at her in concern.

"I'm okay, Derek. I have you. No," she paused and kissed him, as if her life depended on it, and then said, "We have each other. I'm better than okay. I'm blessed."

"We both are. Kind of a shame we can't invite him to the wedding to say thank you," Derek replied.

Penelope's eyes twinkled, even as she drew Derek in for another kiss.

TBC…


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: No excuse, just the facts: life blew up. I am super, super sorry. This is really short and unbetaed, but I figured it was better than nothing. Hoping to finish this really soon.

December 31, 2010

Santa's residence, North Pole

"Santa. Santa! We got an urgent request," Fagen said, as he came rushing into Santa's den nearly knocking Holly over as she slipped off St. Nick's lap to allow him to stand.

"Fagen, don't you knock?"

"Uh, oh, uh…sorry? It's just we got an urgent email and I thought in light of the fact that the workshop's about to close for the holidays and all, you'd want to read it, and make sure I didn't need to tell the elves to wait." Fagen's breathing was heavy by the time he completed his mini speech.

"I see," Santa said. "Well, let me read it." He held his hand out for the piece of paper, gave it a quick perusal, then he began to laugh. "Fagen, you and the other elves are free to go."

"Really, sir?" Fagen remained. It was clear he hoped to learn the contents of the email, but when it was clear that Santa wasn't going to reveal any more he waved to a blushing Mrs. Claus, and left, closing the door behind him.

"Nick, what's going on?"

"Come back over here, and I'll show you," St. Nick said, patting his lap.

Holly tried and failed to keep a stern look on her face as she made her way back to him, but he looked so happy and quite frankly with her face still flushed from nearly getting caught by Fagen, she just couldn't pull it off. Perched in Nick's lap once again, she wrapped an arm around his neck, lay her head on his shoulder, then read the email he held out for her to see.

_Dear Santa,_

_Derek and I are getting married on January 6__th__ and we want you to come. I know this is a highly unusual request, but since it's Epiphany, and you bent the rules in relation to me once already…we'd be honoured._

_Please Santa._

_Penelope Garcia (nearly Morgan, thanks to you)_

"Are we going," Holly asked.

"I don't see why not," Santa said, as he nuzzled his wife's neck. "It's little Christmas, after all. I need to be out that night anyway."

"I love the way you think, Nicholas Claus," Holly said, before she lost herself in her husband's kiss.

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I keep forgetting to mention it, but it's in part one.

AN: First off, like the last chapter I posted, this is so not betaed. I feel so bad that it's taken me so long to finish this story that I'll be typing it and posting. I finished it longhand while being forced to relax.

Secondly, I wasn't expecting where my muse ended up taking this. I had another idea, but…I hope you guys like it.

Thirdly, provided there are no further complications I will be posting the remaining two chapters fairly soon.

Fourthly, thank you to all of you who have stuck with this story: reviewed, favourited and alerted. I never expected the response, but every one of the responses has warmed my heart.

Going to stop rambling now. On with the story. Harlie

January 6, 2011

St. Sebastian's Anglican Church, Toronto, Ontario

Common Room

Derek had just sat back down to watch the snow blanket the city of Toronto when he heard a knock on the door to the room he'd sequestered himself in. After tossing out his well-meaning family, he just wanted some quiet to await the start of the wedding ceremony. He was far from being in top form, but he was definitely well enough to finally get to claim Penelope as his wife.

"Come on in," he called out without bothering to turn around. He was fairly certain he knew whom it was already.

"Hey, Hot Hubby," Penelope said, as he heard the soft click of the door closing.

"And here I thought you were too cautious to risk seeing me before our vows."

"Not a chance, Derek. If the arrow of a grief-crazed expert archer wasn't able to do it, I have no fear of idle superstition," Pen said, as she came to stand behind him.

Her reflection was ethereal. She'd purchased a silk gown in silver that was covered in icicle-patterned lace. The bodice hugged her upper body and then draped from the waist loosely down to her feet on which she wore silver ballet styled slippers. His Baby Girl looked like the angel he had always known her to be.

"Are you sure you're up to this," she questioned, concern evident as her gaze met his own.

As evening settled in and the snow continued to fall it made them appear to be in a snow globe. Alone and at peace: in their own little world. Derek smiled at the thought.

"Baby, I'd have been ready for this the day I regained consciousness if I'd just had the courage to ask. As far as everyone at the hospital was concerned you were already my wife." Derek raised his right hand to hold firmly to her left one on his shoulder before he spoke again, "I love you, P."

"I know. I love you, too. So, what do you say we go make this legal while we have all of our families in one place?" Penelope gave his hand a light squeeze before tugging slightly as she turned to move away.

He nodded, but didn't let go. "Sounds good. Just do me one favour before we go."

Penelope moved back to stand behind him wrapping both her arms around his shoulders, her head tilted slightly in silent query. Derek patted his lap in response, so she dropped one arm to come around and perch where he'd indicated before wrapping her arms around him once more.

"What do you need, D?"

He smiled. "I have all I need right here, but I also want to kiss my fiancée one more time in private before we make out in front of our family as newlyweds."

Penelope laughed. "I like that idea," she whispered against his lips.

It took less than a second for both of them to be lost to everything but each other. In fact, they were so distracted that at first the soft giggle and jovial "Ho, ho, ho," didn't even register with either of them. It was more the realization that they were no longer alone which encouraged them to break apart. Both Derek and Penelope were breathing heavily, but remained securely in one another's space as they looked around to see who dared to disturb them.

"We didn't think you two were going to stop long enough to actually get out to the sanctuary to get married."

"You came!" Penelope was off of Derek's lap and rushing toward the merry elf to envelope him in a hug before he finished his sentence. Finished hugging Santa she moved toward Mrs. Claus with one hand outstretched, then seemed to change her mind and hugged her, too.

"There was no way I'd have let Nick miss this once we got your email. Very clever, by the way; we have an even more secure network than the Pentagon, yet you managed to hack it," Holly said, her expression showing just how impressed she was with Penelope's skills.

"I was motivated," Penelope replied.

"I'm so happy for you, child. At last you have love," Santa said, looking from Derek to Penelope and rubbing his tummy in pleasure.

"Santa, I could never thank you enough."

"You're welcome, but I believe you two would have eventually figured it out."

Standing up, Derek walked over and wrapped his arms around Penelope and propped his head on her left shoulder before saying, "That might be so, sir, but I can't argue that you helped when and where it mattered most."

St. Nick and Holly shared a gentle look before she gave an almost imperceptible nod. Santa winked at her in reply then said, "We'd like your help to fulfill another unfulfilled wish. Would you be willing to help?"

"Definitely!" Derek and Penelope responded in unison.

TBC…


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: In part 1

AN: So, this is the second last chapter. This chapter comes with a warning: My muse surprised me with where this went, but I have to admit it flowed through my pen too easily to be dismissed and so, I have gone ahead with the idea. I hope you guys like it. I'd love to hear/read your opinion. Harlie

November 2, 2011

BAU Headquarters

Quantico, Virginia

Penelope Garcia-Morgan made her way next door to her husband's office, pausing only long enough for a brief knock before walking in. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Derek said, standing up and moving around his desk to come toward her.

"I know. It's going to be odd explaining we've known all this time."

"True, but with Doyle dead, it's time for her to come home and for us to fulfill our promise."

"Doesn't make it any easier to explain though. Especially when we drop the rest of our little bomb," Penelope said, even as she worried at the eternity ring still nestled on the third finger of her right hand.

"One thing at a time, Baby Girl," Derek replied before dropping a light kiss to his wife's lips. "Let's do this," he said, before clasping one of her hands within his own. Still holding hands they made this way to their appointed meeting with their boss in his office.

"Are you two about to add to our team?" Hotch's eyes were uncharacteristically bright and shining with clear anticipation of good news of the baby kind.

"In a manner of speaking," Derek said.

"But not in the way you're expecting," Penelope continued where Derek had paused.

The brightness in Hotch's eyes visibly dimmed and his usual stoic manner slid automatically back into place. "Meaning?"

"Meaning…we know about Prentiss."

"We've always known," Penelope said, moving closer to Derek, as Hotch's demeanor grew dark. She took a deep breath and blew it out in far more of a rush than she likely intended before she said more, "But we needed to remain mum in order to ensure we could fulfill a Christmas wish."

Hotch was no longer stoic. Truth be told he appeared to barely be holding his rage in check as he rose to his feet and then asked, "What the hell are you two talking about? What do you _think_ you know about Emily?"

Derek gave Penelope just a slight shake of his head then said, "Hotch we can explain."

He didn't sit back down. Hotch instead crossed his arms and nailed them both with a hard stare. "I know you can because you're going to right now."

Derek and Penelope shared no more than a look this time, very similar to the exchange between St. Nick and Holly on the evening of their wedding. The exchange was brief, but enough for Penelope to be the one to speak up, "Bossman, do you remember that tiny couple who came to our wedding? No one remembered them arriving at the church and then they disappeared during the receiving line, yet no one saw them depart?"

It was reluctant, but Hotch nodded in the affirmative, yet his lips remained so tightly pursed they were almost nothing more than a crease in his face. "What do they have to do with this," he finally questioned when neither his agent nor technical analyst were forthcoming with more information.

"They were Santa and Mrs. Claus," Penelope said, as if that were the most obvious of answers. Derek stood at her side, nodding his confirmation.

Hotch's ears were blazing red and none of the pink of his lips was visible any longer even as his very clipped reply was spoken, "Is this supposed to be funny because I hope you are both taking clear note that I'm not laughing."

"Hotch, man, you know we'd never come to you with anything so outlandish without proof."

"You can prove it?"

"Yeah! Yeah man, we can. He knew you'd never accept our claim at face value."

Hotch raised both eyebrows at that. "Much the way you refer to him as "he" instead of Santa?"

"Bossman's got you there, Hot Stuff," Penelope said, giving Derek's hand an encouraging squeeze when he gave her an exasperated look.

"_He_ said to tell you that he knows you didn't intend to bean you baby brother with the Hacky Sack® you got the Christmas you were eight. And…"

"And?"

Derek hesitated and his voice dropped in volume and confidence when he spoke once more, "Haley…he said, Haley had burned the final divorce papers and had already called her lawyer to discuss what the implications of a reconciliation would have been a few days before…"

Hotch stumbled and nearly missed his chair as he dropped into it, clearly effected by what Derek had just stated. "I…I never told. I never told anyone about hitting Sean with that toy. I told my parents he rolled off the couch and I couldn't catch him in time," he said, as tears filled his eyes. A sob escaped him before he spoke further, "I found the ashes."

"Oh, Aaron," Penelope said, moving from Derek's side toward the broken man fighting for control behind his desk. He lifted his head and shook it indicating he was okay without her care. His voice hitched but he went on, "Haley bottled them and wrote me a letter. I found them when I was cleaning out the house. Her lawyer called, too when he learned of her death. But…but there's no way either of you could have known those things."

He paused to catch his breath and wipe his eyes then looked from Derek to Penelope. "I'll hear you out."

"We know Emily is alive and she needs to come home because Declan needs her," Penelope said.

"Declan? As in Doyle's son?"

"One and the same," Derek remarked.

"But we don't even know where he and the housekeeper are. Or do we?"

"We do," Penelope said, her 'do you doubt the Oracle' expression on her face. "They're in Austria and we haven't much time; she's dying."

"How long?"

"If Santa's right, and given his Intel so far has been exceptional…another few weeks."

Hotch seemed to digest the new information, but said nothing for several minutes. Then, "You knew Prentiss was alive and said nothing?"

Derek and Penelope both had the good graces to blush. "Bossman, we knew you and we suspected also JJ were involved. We knew you had to keep it on a need to know basis for the safety of us all. That was enough." 

"Now that Doyle is dead though, Hotch, we need to get Emily home, reunite her with Declan and our family, too. None of this is going to be easy and it'll be even harder without you," Derek said.

He remained unresponsive for so long Penelope began to fiddle with the fingers of Derek's hand still clasped within her own. At last, he dabbed at his still watery eyes then met their anxious stares. "We need to tell Rossi, Reid and Seaver before this goes any farther. I'll notify JJ she needs to get over here ASAP."

"Thanks, Hotch."

"Thank you, Bossman."

Hotch waved them both off, as he traced the lines of Haley's face in the framed picture still on the corner of his desk, before picking up his phone.

Together, Derek and Penelope left his office in much the same manner, as they'd arrived, except with the promise of another Christmas wish soon to be fulfilled lightening their steps.

TBC…


	16. Epilogue

Disclaimer: In part one.

AN: First off I need to say a huge thank you to sangreal_7. She encouraged me to finish this story when I was out of steam, fighting with my muse, and losing badly. This epilogue would not be what it is without her. Thanks, B.

Second, this chapter like the last couple of chapters is unbetaed. All mistakes are mine. I apologize if I've missed anything glaring.

Third, all the translations herein are courtesy of research from the Internet. I apologize profusely if they aren't correct, however I did spend extensive time translating back and forth to get it as close as possible.

Fourth, I came to love this story and am rather sad to see it come to an end, but it's time. Thank you to each of you who have come along for the journey. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I. Harlie

December 24, 2011 – early afternoon

Hospital – Klagenfurt

Klagenfurt, Carinthia, Austria

"Master Karl, Ihre Mutter ist tot. Bitte müssen Sie mit mir kommen. Die Behörden warten (Master Karl, your mutter is dead. Please you must come with me. The authorities are waiting,)," said the nurse, as she entered the hospital room.

"No! My real mom is coming for me. I asked der Weihnachtsmann for only one thing this year. If Mutter had to die then I asked for my other mother to come. She'll be here. Please," Karl begged. He was fighting tears, his voice was raspy and his words came out in choppy and broken German.

"Master Karl, genug. Sie müssen kommen. (Master Karl, enough. You must come.)" It was clear the nurse's patience had run its course.

Karl stood from his seat beside his mother's body, but didn't move beyond that. He seemed frozen, shocked, as he registered the presence entering the room behind the nurse.

"Verlassen Sie uns bitte (Leave us, please.)."

"Lauren! Ich meine Agenten Emily. Sie kamen!(Lauren! I mean Agent Emily. You came!)"

"Ja, Declan. Ich kam. Hatten Sie irgendwelche Zweifel? (Yes, Declan. I came. Did you have any doubt?)"

He shook his head, as words seemed to leave him again.

Emily closed the distance between them, and wrapped the now nearly eleven-year-old boy into her embrace.

"Wenn Sie hier sind, tut das bedeutet … (If you're here, does that mean…)"

"Yes, he's gone, too," Emily, replied in English.

Declan seemed uncertain at first, hesitating a couple of moments before he said, "So, we're free?"

"Yes, Declan."

"And, you'll be my mom?"

"Yes, Declan," Emily, repeated, her voice now choked by emotion also.

Christmas Eve - morning

Morgan residence

Mt. Vernon, Virginia

Penelope felt the phone vibrate under her pillow, and had it in her hand, and was answering the call before it could give another shake. "Em? How'd it go," she whispered her question, mindful of Derek asleep beside her.

A smile spread across her face at the response she received. "We'll see you both tomorrow evening then. Can't wait to meet Declan."

Ending the call, Penelope laid the phone on her bedside table beside her glasses, and then she rolled toward Derek, kissing a trail up his bare chest toward his lips.

"Mmm…showing me a good morning, are you, Baby Girl?"

"Always, Hot Stuff," she murmured continuing with the kisses, interspersed now with light nips. "I know you don't mind."

"Not a bit," Derek answered, as he cupped his hands under her bottom, pushed her gently up his body so their lips were closer, and then kissed her.

It was some time later, while they were at last out of bed, and preparing breakfast that Penelope brought up the earlier phone call. "We're to have an honoured guest for dinner tomorrow."

"Santa and Holly?"

"No, but I wish I had thought to invite them."

Derek laughed. "How about you save hacking their account for the next time we need a miracle." He gave her nose a playful tap.

"I suppose. So guess already."

"Declan Doyle. Or should that be Declan Prentiss?"

"One and the same. I'm sure they'll figure it out. You earned a kiss for the right answer."

"Only one?"

"As many as you want."

They both forgot anything more about cooking.

December 25, 2011

Santa's Residence

North Pole

"Holly. Holly? Where are you, honey?"

"Nick, I'm in here." He heard coming from the direction of their bedroom. St. Nick hurried in that direction, already speaking of the evening's events, "It was perfection. Declan was crying over the loss of the only mother figure he's ever really had consistently just as Emily arrived at the hospital. Oh, Holly, you've never seen-"

Santa stopped mid sentence when he beheld the sight awaiting him. His wife of over two hundred years lay in their bed wearing nothing but a very naughty grin. Beside her on the bed lay a book that he could clearly see the embossed cover of: _Fulfilled Dreams_.

"My dear Holly, I see you have been busy. Thank you," he said, as he perched on the bed keeping his eyes focused on the book.

"You're welcome, Nick, but-" Holly closed the cover on the book he was now holding and had just started to flip through. "I have a request."

"Oh do you?" A twinkle was very evident in his eyes, as he locked gazes with her.

"Will you fulfill my Christmas wish now? Please Santa!"

"Ho, ho, ho. Oh, yes," Nick said, as he placed the book gently on a bedside table, then kicking off his boots joined his wife fully in their bed for some Christmas cheer of their own.

The End

Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect. ~Oren Arnold


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